


When Morpheus gets bored

by energie_vie



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dreams and Nightmares, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Love, Mild Language, POV Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Post-Movie: The Old Guard (2020), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/energie_vie/pseuds/energie_vie
Summary: "Nile leans over him to turn on the nightstand lamp and then she sits up, looking at him in utter bewilderment.'No. You don't like sparring with me, remember?''Are you sure?' he insists, glossing over her little explanation.'Sweetheart, whatever you dreamed about, it was just that: a dream.' "OR: sometimes dreams seem so real, even after waking up; Booker would know.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	When Morpheus gets bored

**Author's Note:**

> To begin with, Booker's voice is a lot trickier than Nicky’s, no idea why. Be warned, he's rambling quite a lot.
> 
> Also, angst + fluff + smut has always seemed like a difficult combo, so I hope I made it work.
> 
> Also also, I'm gonna pat myself on the shoulder for the title - it's not from a song and longer than a word, so maybe this is the beginning of a new era? (highly doubt it)
> 
> Last but not least, for more of their established relationship, feel free to check out the [Gooey](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983568) series, which is entirely from Nile's perspective.
> 
> Enjoy!

'Come spar with me!' she says in a half-inviting, half-commanding tone and Booker freezes.

He hates sparring with her because the mere thought of having to lift the sword with the intention to strike her makes him nauseous.

'I think you're better off asking Joe or Nicky, I'm not that good with a sword,' he tries, although he knows it won't get him very far.

'Bullshit! I've seen you fight, you're just as good as them.'

'That's very kind of you to say, darling, but I'm nowhere near as skilled as either of them. They've had centuries to practice. I've always been more of a firearm guy. You know, muskets, pistols, machine guns,' he winks, fully aware that he hasn't really managed to sidetrack her.

'But I don't wanna spar with them, I wanna spar with you!'

The _you_ at the end comes with the tiniest of whines that no one else in the entire world but him would be able to detect and it makes him all the more desperate.

'Darling-'

'Are you afraid you might not be able to keep up and it would bruise your ego?' she grins cheekily.

'Actually, yes. As I said, I'm not that good and clearly not as good as you.'

He's grasping at straws and Nile can see right through him because she's rolling her eyes and pursing her lips unhappily.

'Seb, can you at least _try_ to come up with a decent excuse?'

Booker sighs and closes his eyes, then drags both hands over his face.

'I don't _have_ a decent excuse,' he mumbles resignedly.

'Excellent!' she exclaims with a clap. 'I'll take Joe's scimitar, you can have Nicky’s longsword,' she adds, heading for the French doors that lead to the garden.

Booker sighs again and gets up from the couch to follow her outside. He really can't say no to her, which he normally doesn't mind but today is turning out to be a massive problem.

Nile takes off her sweatshirt and throws it haphazardly on the grass, a few metres away. She's left in her sports bra and leggings and she's doing a couple of warm up moves while holding the sword and damn it, for a fraction of a second he actually contemplates falling to his knees and yielding before they even start. She wouldn't have it, he knows it, so instead, he takes off his T-shirt and rolls his shoulders and his neck.

'No holding back,' she says seriously and drops into the ready position.

Booker agrees with a tight-lipped nod and then he mirrors her starting stance, struggling to disregard the fact that it's _her_ he's about to fight.

They circle each other for a little while, both sporting intense looks of concentration and it's no surprise that she's the one to lunge first. Nile's fighting style is slightly tinged with impatience. He parries her first strike, then the second, follows up with a feint, parries another strike and by the time she's spinning in a circle and aiming for a thrust to his stomach he realises he's a lot more committed to the fight than he would've ever imagined.

From then on it's a whirlwind of strikes and slashes through the air and they're both gliding around each other, trying to find a breach in the other's guard. It's actually quite fun and by no means easy because he'd meant it when he'd said she's a lot better than him.

He parries another low strike and winks naughtily at her, a wide grin spread across his face and all he needs is Nile's millisecond of distraction for his sword to slash across her left arm.

'Fucking hell!' she hisses, bending to pick up her discarded sweatshirt to wipe the blood off. 'That was cheating!' she huffs in discontent.

'No, it wasn't, I just-'

The words die in his throat and Booker suddenly feels like a wave of ice cold water has washed over him. There's a black hole forming in his chest and threatening to consume him in a matter of seconds and he's struggling to make a sound, _any_ sound, but all that comes out is air.

The slash on Nile's arm is still bleeding and it doesn't look like it will stop any time soon.

Nile frowns and cocks her head to the left in confusion, then follows Booker's line of sight and he can actually hear the sharp intake of breath, even though she's a good couple of meters away. She picks the sweatshirt up again, wipes the blood off only to see a fresh dribble make its way down her arm, so she keeps it bunched up and pressing against the wound and slowly lifts his eyes to meet his.

There's an indecipherable look on her face and Booker unclenches both fists and lets the longsword drop to the ground.

'Seb?' she calls quietly and it feels like it's coming from a million light-years away.

The trees are spinning and the clouds seem to be getting closer and Booker doesn't know if the planet has stopped turning or if it's moving faster and faster until it will propel him outwards, like one of those roundabouts in kids' playgrounds. He dimly registers her voice calling out his name again but it feels like he's underwater and he can't breathe, he can't see clearly, he needs to-, he needs to-

'Seb!'

She's kneeling in front of him and when did he end up sitting on the grass?

'Sweetie, breathe with me!'

Booker takes a large gulp of air but it's not enough to expand his lungs, so he tries again, focusing on Nile's face and her eyes and her sad smile that makes him want to cry until he passes out.

'It's ok, Seb, we're gonna be ok, I promise!'

'No, we're not!' he screams but it's only in his head, nothing comes out of his mouth except wheezing noises that grate on his ears.

There's a sudden flash of inspiration and he finds himself urgently crawling on all fours to reach a sword, whichever one he can get his hands on first and it's Joe's scimitar that he picks up from the ground. He closes his left hand around the edge and pulls it roughly in an upward motion. A sharp pang of pain that makes him hiss loudly travels from his palm up to his shoulder but it's gone as soon as it comes and when he opens his hand the flesh is knitting itself back together at lightning speed.

'No, no, no, no, no, no,' Booker mumbles desperately, batting Nile's hands away as she tries to get a hold of the sword.

'Seb, please!'

'No, this can't be happening,' he mutters and drags his hand down the edge again and again and again, always with the same result. The slash closes almost instantly.

The scimitar falls from his hands and he closes his eyes in defeat.

When he opens them again he's in a darkened room, the wind is howling outside and Nile is sleeping curled up to his left, one arm thrown carelessly across his chest. His heart is like a hummingbird trapped in a small box and he can't still his shaking hands no matter how hard he tries. Every breath is burning his lungs, as if his head were stuck in a furnace and he feels cold sweat trickling down his temples, sweat that mixes with tears as soon as a thought occurs to him: what if it was real? Oh, god, what if it wasn't just a dream? What if it actually happened? What if-

'Seb?' Nile's groggy voice pierces through his muddled thoughts and Booker realises he's hyperventilating.

'Did we spar today?' he asks in a faint voice.

'What?'

She paused before answering, oh, _god_ , it was real.

'Did we spar today?' he repeats in a desperate voice and he's almost afraid to look at her.

Nile leans over him to turn on the nightstand lamp and then she sits up, looking at him in utter bewilderment.

'No. You don't like sparring with me, remember?'

'Are you sure?' he insists, glossing over her little explanation.

'Sweetheart, whatever you dreamed about, it was just that: a dream.'

Her voice is firm and unfaltering and she's holding his gaze with such intent that Booker feels most of the tension seep away from his muscles and his lungs. The next time he inhales it doesn't burn anymore.

'Tell me?' she whispers.

He grabs her hand and brings it to his mouth, slowly kissing each knuckle. He's trying to buy time because a small part of him is reluctant to relive the damned nightmare and an even smaller part is still paralyzed with fear at the thought that the dream is just some sort of foreshadowing or vision of the near future or-'

'Seb, stay here with me,' Nile pleads softly and Booker realises he's close to hyperventilating again.

'We were sparring,' he starts slowly.

The corners of Nile's mouth lift just a bit and her eyes twinkle and Booker knows she's very tempted to make a joke. She stays quiet, though.

'I slashed your arm, here,' he says, lifting his hand to show her the exact place. 'And it wouldn't stop bleeding.'

'Oh, sweetie!'

'So I dragged my palm over the edge of Joe's scimitar, desperately hoping my wound wouldn't heal either,' he swallows audibly. 'But it did, so I kept trying, thinking that if I did it enough times, maybe it would work. And then I woke up.'

'And you thought it had really happened and you were just reliving it in a dream,' she whispers.

'Yes. I'm still terrified that you're just waiting for me to calm down so that you can tell me it's all actually true.'

'Seb-'

'I can't live without you, Nile!' he cuts her off and now that he's started, his whole soul pours out through his words. 'I can't. I don't know how. I wasn't really living before you came along, I was just wading through grief and misery and guilt, merely surviving from one day to the next. _You_ make me want to live, you, the other half of my soul and the sole reason I breathe!'

Nile is looking at him with glassy eyes and the most tender smile and Booker feels more of the tension drain away.

'I love you so much!' she breathes before throwing herself on him and crushing his mouth with hers.

Kissing her is like flying. It's the only way he can describe the feeling of weightlessness and the thrill that runs through his entire body when her lips slide across his.

Soon enough, though, Nile's impatience starts to show. Her movements become more insistent and the change of pace instantly makes him light-headed. He barely parts his lips and she's already slipping her tongue in his mouth, groaning faintly and tangling one hand in his hair and shifting to lay fully on top of him, thighs on either side of his hips.

When she starts grinding down on him, Booker's focus wavers and the kiss turns sloppy, teeth smashing and tongues colliding. His fingers dig into her hips and he squeezes his eyes shut, losing himself in her choked moans and soft whimpers.

'I want you so badly!' she pants in his mouth.

'Fuck me!' he begs. _Make me forget_ , he adds in his head and he's convinced she's somehow heard it because she sets an even more urgent pace.

Her T-shirt, which is actually one of his, flies through the air and lands on the chandelier, making it sway dangerously in all directions. It makes her giggle and Booker knows it's cheesy as fuck but her laughter sounds like jingle bells and he could listen to it all day long and whenever _he_ 's the cause for it, it makes his heart swell uncontrollably and fuck, she's sliding down on him, when did this happen, why is it so easy to get lost in her and in thoughts of her-

'I love-, _aah_ , I-, _fuck_ , I love you!'

He's not coherent anymore, it's just random words and fragments of thoughts and he doesn't even realise which ones make it past his lips and which ones stay inside his head but she's always known how to make sense of his ramblings.

'Look at me,' she says breathlessly.

When did he close his eyes, why didn't he realise they're not open, god, she's so beautiful and she's _his_ and he doesn't know what he ever did to deserve her but fuck if he'll question providence or karma or the laws of the universe.

The pace she's set is tantalisingly slow and she's touching herself and he doesn't think he's ever told her but this is hands down his favourite part, letting her hold the reins and choose the rhythm and take her pleasure from him, although she could probably never imagine that the scales are heavily tipped, this is infinitely more pleasurable for him. He feels every millimetre of her gliding up and down and her face is all scrunched up in concentration, the line of her neck, her breasts, her hips, _fuck_ , he can't even breathe when she comes crying out his name. She's the most beautiful when she's struggling to catch her breath.

'I didn't know this was your favourite part,' she gasps in a shaky voice, grinning slyly.

'Did I say it out loud?' 

'Among many other things. Switch!' she murmurs, lifting herself off of him and lying on her back, thighs spread wide open.

She's still coming down from her orgasm and she's slick and warm when he slides inside and it's a fucking sensory overload, he can barely think of anything other than her name and how much he loves her and how good it is, he's probably rambling again and his voice is slightly muffled because he's kissing her neck and she's holding him so tightly and moaning his name, over and over and he can't lose her, he _can't_!

'Bite me!' she pants in his ear and it makes him shiver, so she pulls him even closer, nails scratching hard down his back.

His teeth sink into the juncture between her neck and her shoulder and she lets out a hiss and clenches around him and it's a miracle his heart doesn't explode but when he pulls back a little, he watches the bite mark fade into nothing and he feels like crying and laughing at the same time because fuck, does she know him, she knows him so well, she's anything and everything he'll ever want and need and he's fucking rambling again and-

'Oh, fuck!'

His whole body tenses when he comes and then he starts shaking so badly that Nile wraps herself tightly around him and kisses his temple, whispering something that he can't really focus on. It seems like forever until his breath returns to normal and his heart stops thundering and by that time, he's soft and already slipped out of her.

'Are you ok?' she asks quietly while playing with his sweaty hair, half of which is plastered to his forehead.

'Spent,' he mumbles.

'Pun intended?' she giggles and all he can hear is jingle bells again.

'No, just a poor choice of words,' he replies with a weak chuckle.

'Speaking of words.. I like this talkative version quite a lot,' she says, poking his ribs playfully.

Booker yelps and twitches and finally moves to lay down next to her.

'Duly noted,' he smiles. 'I think I need to work a bit on coherence, though.'

'Neah, I can make sense of your rambling,' she winks and Booker feels like he's melting.

'I know,' he sighs contentedly. 'I know.'

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://energievie.tumblr.com/) if you wanna say hi 😬💜


End file.
